Northey Valenzuela Idaho

Bruce Springsteen -- who has been asked to analyzehis own work as often as just about anyone in the modern era -- hasmore than once compared talking about music to talking about sex,suggesting that both are "better when demonstrated."

The Boss's apt analogy comes to mind when trying todescribe Northey Valenzuela, an odd-couple side-project pairing oftwo singer-songwriters with diverse backgrounds but similar musicalinterests. Northey, of Vancouver's underground darlings the Odds,is a red-headed Canuck with a flair for witty, loose-limbedstory-songs. Valenzuela, of Arizona's star-crossed Gin Blossoms, isa Mexican American with a perpetual twinkle in his eye whosepolished songcraft has caught the ear of admiring artists fromNashville to the West Coast. What the two share most is anaffection -- and a facility -- for intelligent, melodic,guitar-driven rock and roll.

Valenzuela and Northey's paths-crossing moment camewhen both were playing guitar and singing harmony for bands seekingfame and fortune in LA. The Odds and the Blossoms hung in the samebars, played on the same bills and crashed on the same floors morethan once back in the day. A decade and a half later, the pair havehooked up for an album on which they trade songs and lead andharmony vocals like a NAFTA-ized version of the BoDeans, fillingthe air with jangly roots-rock with the bubbly start and smoothfinish of professional musicians cutting loose and having a goodtime.

So what sets this album apart?